Quotes About Self-discovery

It takes time to find the courage to display the parts of yourself that aren't bright and shining. But you have to see them, have to know they're inside you...shadows in the garden. They are a part of all of us.

My name is Hope Wolfsong," she whispered. "I am not cs821. Not anymore. Never again.

Don't absorb so much of what is human that you forget who you are. But if you must, do it for your own sake rather than for the benefit of the rest of us.

It is when you are asking about something that you realize you yourself have survived it, and so you must carry it, or fashion it into a thing that carries itself.

Those nights lying alone are not discontinuous with this cold hectic dawn. It is who I am.

I lack myself.

As Sokrates tells it, your story begins the moment Eros enters you. That incursion is the biggest risk of your life. How you handle it is an index of the quality, wisdom, and decorum of the things inside you. As you handle it you come into contact with what is inside you, in a sudden and startling way. You perceive what you are, what you lack, what you could be.

One reason we have children I think is to learn that parts of ourselves we had given up for dead are merely dormant and that the old joys can re emerge fresh and new and in a completely different form.

Everyone has inside himself a piece of good news! The good news is that you really don't know how great you can be, how much you can love, what you can accomplish, and what your potential is!

Everyone has inside of her a piece of good news. The good news is that you don't know how great you can be! How much you can love! What you can accomplish! And what your potential is!

Everyone has inside of him a piece of good news. The good news is that you don't know how great you can be How much you can love What you can accomplish And what your potential is

Russians are trying to figure out who they are and where they fit into the world.

Before he had come to the town he had known about nothing but death: here he had learnt to live, to decide things for himself; he had learnt what it felt like to wash in clean water in the sunshine until he was clean himself, and what it felt like to satisfy his hunger with food that tasted good; he had learnt the sound of laughter that was free from cruelty; he had learnt the meaning of beauty

The sun glistened on a drop of water as it fell from his hand to his knee. David wiped it off, but it left no tidemark: there was no more dirt to rub away. He took a deep breath and shivered. He was David. Everything else was washed away, the camp, its smell, its touch--and now he was David, his own master, free--free as long as he could remain so.

Your problem is how you are going to spend this one odd and precious life you have been issued. Whether you're going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over people and circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are.

Clutter and mess show us that life is being lived...Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation... Perfectionism is a mean, frozen form of idealism, while messes are the artist's true friend. What people somehow forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here.

Women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves.

I find there is a quality to being alone that is incredibly precious. Life rushes back into the void, richer, more vivid, fuller than before.

A journey through all the nooks and crannies of the human experience, spiritual inquiry is the effort to connect with a larger reality, to master the self and its endless puzzles and boundaries. It's the never-ending asking, What is this? What's the point?

Now I am going back And I have ripped my hand From your hand as I said I would And I have made it this far ...

And if I tried to give you something else, something outside myself, you would not know that the worst of anyone can be, finally, an accident of hope

I am going to lose myself – or else, the chance is that poetry will save me.

Everyone in me is a bird. I am beating my wings. They wanted to cut you out but they will not. They said you were immeasurably empty bu you are not. They said you were sick unto dying but they were wrong. You are winging like a school girl. You are not torn.

I feel myself beginning to love you instead of just need you. I don't think I have ever loved anyone in my life, not really – just needed them, wanted them to love me to possess me – to become such a part of someone I could lose my frightened self…